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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23744185">Made for This</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/v_angelique/pseuds/viklikesfic'>viklikesfic (v_angelique)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - BDSM, Cock &amp; Ball Torture, Dom/sub, Dubious Science, Ethical Dilemmas, Face Slapping, Finger Sucking, Leashes, M/M, Master/Slave, Multiverse, No Safeword, Rough Sex, Sharing Fantasies, Subdrop, Undernegotiated Kink</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 15:13:52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,863</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23744185</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/v_angelique/pseuds/viklikesfic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When a trans-dimensional portal malfunctions, a version of Bucky shows up that is definitely not the man Steve and Sam have been searching for—this one’s wearing a collar and looking for his Master. Fortunately, Tony has things (cough) under control.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>James "Bucky" Barnes/Tony Stark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>396</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>MCU Kink Bingo Round 4</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Made for This</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for the “Comfort Sex” square on my MCU Kink Bingo card, which makes a bingo! I just realized, reading the rules, that it won’t actually be counted because I don’t have a Tumblr or Pillowfort to be able to do a master post, but hey, it’s just for funsies anyway, so I’m proud of myself for finishing a line :-)</p><p>CW: Master/slave themes with a character from an alternate universe where that’s the norm, not-really-negotiated kink / play without a safeword, fantasizing about brutal play. While there's context that affects consent norms in this and it's not really playing with non-con, there are some darker fantasies briefly shared, so please take care of yourself!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Tony’s first thought when the air crackles and a blinding white light floods the workshop is not much more coherent than “holy shit, we did it.” A trans-dimensional portal, one they can open </span>
  <em>
    <span>on purpose</span>
  </em>
  <span>, even if they can’t quite aim it yet. The implications are mind-boggling. But before he can blink the workshop back into existence and find Bruce’s hand for a gleeful hi-five, he hears a strangled gasp from his left. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Bucky</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, shit,” Tony mutters, dots in his vision gradually clearing until he can make out the figure kneeling in the center of the portal—or what </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> the portal, anyway. The sensitive equipment all around him is quite obviously fried, while Barnes kneels there blinking in confusion, clad in bondage gear. Not his tac suit, either—this get-up conjures up images of some of the clubs Tony frequented in his 20s even </span>
  <em>
    <span>more </span>
  </em>
  <span>readily. A leather harness, bare chest, and plenty of metal hardware decorating both the harness </span>
  <em>
    <span>and</span>
  </em>
  <span> the chest, thick bars pierced through each nipple. Obscenely short shorts, bare feet, a thick leather collar and </span>
  <em>
    <span>Christ</span>
  </em>
  <span>, a short chain leash. Not to mention the fact that his tanned skin is absolutely littered with bruises, teeth marks, and even a couple of raised welts that look like they might have come from a cane.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tony,” Steve whispers, apparently not focused on the fetish costume or the marks nearly so much as the appearance of his friend, the friend he’s been searching for throughout the better part of a year, suddenly in Stark Tower. “You… you brought Bucky here?” He’s all choked up, full of gratitude, and Tony quickly cuts him off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whoa, Cap, no, I wasn’t planning for anything to come </span>
  <em>
    <span>through</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” he confesses. “This isn’t… it’s a trans-dimensional portal, and look closer, this can’t be </span>
  <em>
    <span>your</span>
  </em>
  <span> Bucky…” (Not just the fetish gear, but this version of Barnes is at least slightly thinner, and more notably has a different version of the metal arm—still with the red star decorating it, but with a white “SGR” monogram in its center. Plus, the plating and its lines are subtly distinct, to an engineer’s eye.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Master</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Bucky gasps, cutting Tony off. His eyebrows jump to his hairline, but Bucky ignores him categorically, dashing across the workshop at a surprisingly quick crawl and landing at Steve’s feet. “Master, what’s going on?” He blinks up at Steve and Steve, for his part, looks </span>
  <em>
    <span>extremely</span>
  </em>
  <span> uncomfortable, hands clenching.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What… Bucky, what are you doing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky flinches a little, then his tone turns more beseeching, gaze dropping to Steve’s shoes. “I’m sorry, Master. This was… a test,” he pronounces, half statement and half question, lacing his fingers behind his back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? No, I’m not… you got sucked through Tony’s portal, Buck, I don’t… I mean… you </span>
  <em>
    <span>are</span>
  </em>
  <span> Bucky Barnes, right? Or some version of Bucky?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Barnes?” Bucky frowns, but he doesn’t look up. “I’m still your Bucky, Master. That’s what you call me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck,” Steve whispers, his whole face going white. “Nat, is he… HYDRA… does he think I’m a handler?” Steve asks, looking lost, and Tony doesn’t blame him. Nothing they’ve learned in the last year about HYDRA and their “handling” of the Winter Soldier has been good. And given the condition of this Bucky’s body, well. It’s a reasonable conclusion. But Bucky, still staring at Steve’s shoes, just looks slightly confused. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There might not be a HYDRA in his world, Cap.” Bruce is gentle, approaching them but not getting too close. “Bucky… I know this is a lot to take in, but Tony and I created a portal that accesses other dimensions, worlds parallel to our own. It seems that you accidentally got pulled through. In our world… we know of you, but we think things are probably different. Can you explain what Steve is to you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At the direct question, Bucky doesn’t speak, but his eyes shift up to Steve’s, waiting expectantly. Steve frowns for a second, then nods when he doesn’t say anything. “Go on.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My Master,” Bucky says simply, without elaboration. His eyes drop again, and they all wait for him to say more, but no words are forthcoming. Steve looks rather desperate, catching Tony’s eye and projecting </span>
  <em>
    <span>you fix it</span>
  </em>
  <span> hard at him, an expression Tony only recognizes from vast previous experience. Before he can think of a next step, though, Bucky speaks again, quiet and deferential. “Master. I don’t understand. Please, could you…?” He trails off, leaning in slightly, cocking his lowered head to the side to bare his neck. The motion puts some of the red marks  just above his collar in stark relief under the workshop’s lights. Steve looks </span>
  <em>
    <span>completely</span>
  </em>
  <span> confused.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, fuck,” Tony mutters, his imagination easily conjuring what evil version of their world Bucky might have come from, given the way he’s acting like a slave. “Mirror verse.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wouldn’t he have a mustache?” Clint not-so-helpfully suggests from his perch in the corner. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bucky,” Steve butts in. “I’m not your… master.” He shudders a little at the word, likely thinking of HYDRA and all its implications, but at his declaration Bucky goes rigid, looking up at Steve, looking </span>
  <em>
    <span>terrified</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But… if I’m here… and my Master is a version of you… then can’t you…?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve frowns. “I don’t know what you’re asking,” he admits, sounding wary. “But I’m not… you’re your own person, Buck, doesn’t matter what universe you’re in. And the Bucky </span>
  <em>
    <span>I </span>
  </em>
  <span>know… well. I just can’t… if you’re asking me to </span>
  <em>
    <span>abuse</span>
  </em>
  <span> you...” He looks completely nauseated, while Bucky just continues to look confused. “We can find you help.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But… you can’t send me back?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not for at least a little while, no,” Bruce gently admits. “Our machine’s damaged. And we don’t actually know how to aim you back where you came from, yet, so for now, you’re kind of stuck with us. Sorry.” He grimaces, but Tony is more focused on Bucky, whose confusion seems to be gradually giving way to panic.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then… please, you said you can find me help?” he asks Steve. “You can get me a temporary claim?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve frowns. “I don’t know what you mean. I meant… we have access to therapists. Doctors. If you’re not… used to being free. We can find support, help you to operate on your own.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Free</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Bucky looks bewildered, and honestly from Tony’s position, more horrified than relieved. “That’s not… I’m a </span>
  <em>
    <span>submissive</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Sir,” he mutters urgently. “Please, if someone can’t help me, I’ll crash.” Steve doesn’t respond to that, really, and after a moment of silence, Bucky’s eyes finally lift and implore each of them in turn. Perhaps, Tony imagines, he feels released from whatever obligation he’s felt to Steve so far, freer to make eye contact. It makes Tony think vaguely of all the weird Gorean stuff he stumbled upon online in the 90s, looking for kinky porn.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...when you say crash,” Natasha interjects, her body mission-calm and just as obviously (to Tony, anyway) poised for a fight. “What do you mean? Tell me like I’m five years old.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He frowns and looks up at her. “Sub crash, Ma’am. I’m under stress and my Master isn’t present. If I’m not claimed, I’ll start exhibiting the symptoms.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Such as?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Disorientation. Short-term memory loss. Loss of sensory and cognitive functions. Failure to regulate temperature. Inability to communicate,” Bucky rattles off as if reading from a textbook.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait,” Bruce interrupts. “These symptoms, they’re physiological?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes…” Bucky looks at him like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, but Bruce just moves over to another part of the workshop, business-like. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know if we’re going to be able to detect anything,” Bruce warns the team. “It depends on how closely his biology mimics ours, but…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you’re lying,” Natasha says, her eyes flint-hard and focused on Bucky. “We’re going to find out.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky shivers, hard, and his eyes drop to the floor again. Tony frowns, but he doesn’t have time to actually say anything, because Bruce is hooking him up to several monitors, helping him into a chair, and attaching a device Tony designed for real-time blood chemistry analysis to the inside of his elbow. The more time passes, sitting there surrounded by alert Avengers, the more nervous Bucky looks. His eyes dart around the room, but less like the sniper Tony had seen on camera from the battle in DC, and much more like someone totally freaked out and hoping to escape—or maybe scanning his environment for the greatest threat. There’s not much Tony can do, though, when Bruce is all wrapped up in squishy sciences. He waits with the rest of the team, as Bruce and JARVIS work to identify anomalies as quickly as they can. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There,” Bruce points at a holographic read-out. “Those </span>
  <em>
    <span>look</span>
  </em>
  <span> like hormones, but they’re nothing identifiable. And check out his vitals. Elevated temperature, heart rate… actually, I’m running on a theory, here. Bucky, I have a question for you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Sir.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You called it sub-crash. And you identified yourself as a submissive. In our world, those words sometimes apply to someone who is… more docile in bed, for lack of a better term. Someone who likes pain or rough sex, or just likes a partner to take the lead, depending on the person. Is something like that what you meant?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Bucky agrees eagerly, looking slightly relieved. “You understand?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well… maybe not entirely. When you said that you need to be claimed… did you mean, uh, you need someone else to be in charge of you sexually? Or… generally? A more dominant person?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky nods. “Yes, Sir. I need a dominant to make me theirs,” he explains, matter-of-fact. “Until you can send me home.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Christ,” Clint mutters. “Did we just walk onto a porn set and nobody noticed?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shut up, Clint,” Steve mutters. He looks quite red. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bucky, would you be more comfortable on your knees?” Bruce asks gently, and Bucky nods. Tony’s eyes narrow as he drops back to the floor and the monitors show fluctuations from all the wireless devices he’s wearing, very slight improvements in Bucky’s vitals alongside varying adjustments in the unfamiliar hormone levels.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shit,” Tony mutters to himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For the class, Stark?” Natasha doesn’t look very amused and she’s still unnaturally relaxed, which never bodes well.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s not bluffing. It looks like maybe… submissive behaviors, emotions, I don’t know, but these hormone levels in the bloodstream are tracking with changes in his vitals and known neurotransmitters. You know how people do S&amp;M or whatever and their endorphins spike?”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“S&amp;M?” Steve asks, and Clint snickers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t ask, Cap.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whips and chains, Steve, it’s not a big deal,” Tony sums up, flippant because that’s not really his point. “But his body is reacting to </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span> in a similar way, except these aren’t hormones that exist in our world. If their fluctuations really cause symptoms like Bucky’s describing at a certain magnitude… I don’t know, it’s plausible that not having anyone in charge of him at the moment is the cause, but that’s way beyond your garden variety subdrop.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What does </span>
  <em>
    <span>in charge</span>
  </em>
  <span> even mean?” Steve asks. “Bucky?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know,” Bucky responds quietly, though the panicked look on his face is not fading, as it becomes more obvious that they </span>
  <em>
    <span>don’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>know. “Right of the Master. The person who owns me, or… has responsibility for me, at the moment. The person who has the right to apply punishment…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait,” Steve interrupts firmly, his jaw locking so tightly that Tony half expects a bone to pop out of place. “No one’s going to punish you here. And you don’t have to go back there, if you don’t want to, you have </span>
  <em>
    <span>rights</span>
  </em>
  <span>. No one </span>
  <em>
    <span>owns </span>
  </em>
  <span>anyone here, and I don’t care where you come from, you get that same protection extended to you.” Steve’s arms are crossed over his chest, his feet slightly spread, and Tony rolls his eyes just a little at Truth, Justice, and the American Way in action. There’s no question Steve’s ready to fight someone for Bucky’s rights, but what else is new?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s true,” Bruce confirms, albeit in a gentler matter. “I don’t know how quickly we can identify a medical treatment for this crash you’re talking about, but if you want me to, I’ll get started on it right away. It’s your choice,” he soothes, but Bucky just looks more panicky, if anything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t… </span>
  <em>
    <span>choice</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Bucky spits, as if it’s a bad word. “I’m a </span>
  <em>
    <span>submissive</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Don’t you understand?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not sure we do,” Steve admits, sounding frustrated. Bucky whines, a little, at the back of his throat, metal arm recalibrating to match, and the monitors start registering various alerts—temperature, heart rate, respiration. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What if we hire a pro dom?” Tony suggests, not liking the way Bucky’s vitals are spiking. “Temporary solution, someone to take charge of him while we figure this out. I can pay them off to stay quiet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, you’re saying actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>find </span>
  </em>
  <span>him a master?” Steve recoils. “He can’t consent to that!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can’t he?” Tony squares up across the workshop from Steve, raising his eyebrows. “Does our concept of consent even apply here? Because I’m not so sure it does.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Tony</span>
  </em>
  <span>. You can’t just… bend the rules because he’s asking you to, Jesus. He’s a </span>
  <em>
    <span>victim </span>
  </em>
  <span>of something horrible, and he needs </span>
  <em>
    <span>treatment</span>
  </em>
  <span>, not some kind of... weird sex games. Look at his </span>
  <em>
    <span>body</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I mean... isn’t that obvious to you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not really, Cap.” Tony might be snarling, a little, but he can’t quite help it. Sometimes the Man with the Plan can be so obtuse, and though Tony knows almost nothing concrete about this Bucky’s world, he’s got enough facts so far to draw more than a couple of conclusions. Meanwhile, Steve’s giving Tony his “I’m Disappointed In You” face, and fewer things can make Tony feel more like a misbehaving child (or more adamant about getting in Cap’s face in response). Plus, deeper than that, there’s something in the way Steve says it that gets Tony’s back up, a kind of protectiveness surging up in him over the troubled submissive they’ve unintentionally brought into their lives. He doesn’t know exactly what it’s like to have a vanilla person judging the marks on your body, making assumptions about where you got them, but he’s not a fan. “You’re in over your goddamned head. There’s a lot of shit I don’t know about this situation either, but I can see that we’ve brought a man here </span>
  <em>
    <span>without</span>
  </em>
  <span> his consent, that </span>
  <em>
    <span>we’re</span>
  </em>
  <span> responsible for that, and he’s asking for us to fix it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“By what, treating him like a slave?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, maybe! But guess what, Star Spangled Judgy-Pants, I don’t have time to debate moral relativism with you while he is </span>
  <em>
    <span>physically suffering</span>
  </em>
  <span> because no one is in control of him!” Tony shouts, pointing to the monitors. Several numbers are still climbing, and more obviously, Bucky is kneeling on the floor, hugging himself and shivering, his eyes gone a little glassy. Steve sets his jaw again, and before they can carry this argument out any further, Tony just goes with his damn gut, because impulsive decisions have never steered him wrong in the past, right?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He takes a step forward fast enough that Steve doesn’t have a chance to react, and then his right hand draws back to catch Bucky in a hard slap, full-strength right across the face. The other hand catches Bucky by the hair, yanking his head back so that he has no choice but to look up at Tony, and by then Steve’s body is rushing forward, but Natasha grabs him hard enough by the arm to trip him up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait,” she barks, and mercifully he does, allowing Tony to give all his attention to the submissive man currently on his knees at Tony’s feet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Thank</span>
  </em>
  <span> you, Master,” Bucky moans, as his body trips into an all-over shudder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is this what you need?” Tony asks, his voice gone cold and hard. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Master,” Bucky whispers. At the same time, he relaxes fully into Tony’s fist in his hair, going partially limp against it so that the tension against his hand increases. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bruce?” Tony prompts, a little gentler, not tearing his eyes away from Bucky’s for an instant. “JARVIS?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Vitals evening out, Sir,” JARVIS replies before Bruce can look. “Hormonal balance is also shifting among our unknown variables, in addition to elevated levels of dopamine and serotonin, reduced cortisol…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good, J.” Tony takes a deep breath, lets it out. It’s exceedingly weird to channel his inner dominant in front of his entire team, something he hasn’t really indulged in the years since Afghanistan. Though he knows consensual BDSM is nothing like torture, or making weapons, he still doesn’t feel entirely comfortable with the darker turn his fantasies took since that experience, and he hasn’t trusted himself to look for compatible interests in a partner. But Bucky needs it, and this whole thing is his fault, so... once more into the breach. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We can spend hours debating how consent should work for a person who’s physically designed to respond to submission if you want, Cap.” Tony’s voice is softer as he raises his eyes to meet Steve’s again. “Later. But right now, Bucky needs our help, and I’ve got at least a decent idea of how to provide it,” he admits. Though he hasn’t forgotten his offer to find a prodom, that feeling of protectiveness in his chest hasn’t dissipated, and there’s something about the look in Bucky’s eyes after Tony had hit him that he </span>
  <em>
    <span>desperately </span>
  </em>
  <span>wants to further explore. “Are you with me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Reluctantly, but also looking a little guilty, Steve nods, and Tony tries not to let his relief show too much in his body as he turns to Bucky again. “You’re going to answer some questions for me, now, boy. Understood?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Master,” Bucky murmurs, his whole body more relaxed now, eyes on Tony’s boots. Natasha starts the line of questioning before any other disagreements can spring up, and Tony gets down to business, directing Bucky to answer them truthfully and completely. If Steve looks a little uncomfortable, well, that’s probably the best they’re going to get.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>~*~</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After several hours of interrogation, several things are clear. </span>
</p><ol>
<li>
<span>Steve Rogers is </span><em><span>not</span></em><span> comfortable seeing a mirror image of his best friend on his knees for Tony Stark. Tony does not actually give a shit.</span>
</li>
<li>
<span>Bucky’s world is both similar to, and very different from theirs. “Commander Rogers” is actively engaged in a campaign against HYDRA, because of course the many-headed bastards exist even in alternate dimensions. Tony exists, too, but Bucky’s never met him. The rest of their team, he doesn’t know of by name, and there are no Avengers. Before Commander Rogers rescued him, Bucky was a tool of HYDRA—but not, apparently, as a fighter. Steve punches a metal cart so hard his fist goes straight through, when he learns how Bucky </span><em><span>did</span></em><span> serve HYDRA. But it’s quite obvious from Bucky’s confusion that, in his world, submissives don’t serve in the military, nor are they assassins, nor secret agents. He belongs to Commander Rogers, and that pretty much </span><em><span>is</span></em><span> his job, as far as they can tell. Steve is </span><em><span>deeply</span></em><span> uncomfortable with this, and Tony kind of likes it.</span>
</li>
<li><span>Although Commander Rogers owns Bucky, he wouldn’t consider it a betrayal for Tony to “borrow” his submissive, as such things aren’t unheard of in Bucky’s world. Certainly, Masters have certain rights, but it’s normal for another dominant to step in as a temporary Master where the usual person is absent, to avoid the “crash” Bucky describes. </span></li>
<li>
<span>None of the Avengers (save Natasha, maybe) are exactly comfortable with the idea of </span><em><span>Tony</span></em><span> stepping in and filling a dominant role for Bucky to preserve his health and wellbeing. But none of them volunteer to take his place, either, and eventually they concede that it’s a reasonable solution, insofar as there are any to this situation. When Bucky’s given the offer that they could find him a professional, someone other than Tony, he politely declines. </span>
</li>
<li><span>Bucky’s world is a rough one. Safe, sane, and consensual don’t really apply. </span></li>
</ol><p>
  <span>When they finally call it quits, Tony leads Bucky to the elevators by the leash. Or, more precisely, he wraps the already short length of chain around his hand and grips just beyond where the chain connects to a loop at Bucky’s throat, yanking the man with him into the metal car. They’d left the monitors on throughout the interrogation, and though Tony has been focused on learning as much as possible about Bucky’s world, he also kept half an eye on Bucky’s hormone levels and his vital signs throughout the process, experimenting with little physical gestures to see how different things would affect his comfort. Proximity is obviously reassuring, more so if Tony is standing over him, or otherwise physically displaying his dominance. It’s all very primal, Tony’s natural instincts syncing up neatly with what levels Bucky out physiologically. In some ways, that’s reassuring, like humans on Bucky’s world are just a little more like other animal species in their psychosexual habits, but not fundamentally different otherwise. At the same time, there’s a lot that isn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>usual</span>
  </em>
  <span> about this, and Tony can’t pretend otherwise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When the elevator reaches the penthouse level Tony tugs Bucky along and then, acting on instinct and honestly a base desire to </span>
  <em>
    <span>do</span>
  </em>
  <span> something more physical after all the pent-up tension of the last few hours, he shoves Bucky to the floor. This Bucky is strong, but not enhanced. He has the metal arm but it’s different, sleeker. Not designed for combat. Tony can fling him several feet, and when he lands haphazardly on the carpet, his hands barely catching him, his eyes flick back up to meet Tony’s with undisguised want. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“God, that was a shitshow,” Tony mutters, stalking forward and shoving Bucky again, this time with a boot in the middle of his chest. Bucky gets the message and falls back, letting Tony pin him to the ground. “I mean, I get it, human rights, it’s kind of a thing, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>…” He drops to a crouch, then, shifting more of his weight to the boot on Bucky’s chest, reaching up to brush the hair out of Bucky’s eyes. “You obviously have different needs than we do. Whether or not they’re all </span>
  <em>
    <span>comfortable</span>
  </em>
  <span> with it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Master,” Bucky whimpers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s right,” Tony growls, fisting his hand again in that unfairly-gorgeous mane. It’s been ages, truth be told, since he ran a scene, and he’s not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. He’s used to tamping down certain urges, but with Bucky, he doesn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>have</span>
  </em>
  <span> to. He may not be into the whole Master/slave thing, specifically, but Bucky’s beautiful, willing, and literally </span>
  <em>
    <span>needs</span>
  </em>
  <span> whatever Tony can dish out. He probably should be more nervous about the fact that, when they’d asked downstairs, Bucky had shown no recognition around concepts like hard limits and safewords, and couldn’t really articulate anything that he doesn’t want done to him. But at the same time, Bucky’s world is a different paradigm, and Tony’s not going to get his panties in a twist over it. “If you don’t like something, signal me,” he orders, because he can at least do that much. But then he pushes two fingers into Bucky’s mouth and the man sucks so sweet, eager like he was born to do it. Tony groans, feeling his dick stiffen up in his jeans. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Atta boy. Suck me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky moans and scrapes along Tony’s fingers with his teeth, getting the length of them nice and wet. He thinks about where he might put those wet fingers, but that’s for later, probably, once they’re in an actual bed. Tony’s back is just not up to sex on the floor, these days, not with all the crap he puts his body through in the Iron Man armor. Bucky, on the other hand, is writhing like he might come just like this, under Tony’s boot and around his fingers. Tony indulges himself, stroking at the back of Bucky’s throat just to trigger his gag reflex, get him choking a bit, but eventually pulls his fingers free.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m operating on instinct, here,” Tony admits, wiping his fingers on Bucky’s cheek. “You might have gathered… we don’t exactly have dominants in the same way you do in your world.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky frowns. “Master?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s up?”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean… you do, Master, clearly,” Bucky frowns. “I know your team are all neutrals, except for the woman maybe, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>you’re </span>
  </em>
  <span>a dom. You couldn’t drop me if you weren’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well… okay, I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>comfortable</span>
  </em>
  <span> with it,” Tony admits. “I’ve done this kind of thing before. But from the way you explained it, those things are biologically determined, in your world. It’s not just… a choice.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Master,” Bucky agrees calmly. “And in my world, you’re a dominant. A strong one. If you were a neutral instead in this universe, you </span>
  <em>
    <span>couldn’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> trigger my subspace. You just… couldn’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What, biologically?” Tony frowns. “It’s not just that I wouldn’t try to?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky shakes his head. “I don’t know all that stuff, they don’t teach you in sub school. But it’s… chemicals, I think. I know they’ve studied it, tried having a neutral mimic a dom’s behavior exactly, and it doesn’t work the same way. You’re different from your teammates.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh.” Tony suspects that’s mostly bullshit, something wrong with the experimental design, but he can’t deny the curiosity. It’s not really relevant now, though, so he just shrugs. “I fantasize,” he admits, shifting so that he’s straddling Bucky’s torso. “But honestly, sweetheart, the things you make me want to do to you…” He trails one finger down the line of Bucky’s throat over the collar, finally actually letting his thoughts drift to the kinds of images he’s been trying to push down ever since Bucky described how things work in his home dimension. “...could probably get me arrested.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Tell</span>
  </em>
  <span> me,” Bucky begs. Tony licks his lips and quickly makes a decision, pushing himself up to his feet again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“With me,” he orders, snapping his fingers, and Bucky follows him to the bedroom in a languid crawl, like he’s been moving that way his entire life. Obviously has. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You might not want to know,” Tony warns, grabbing Bucky by the harness and yanking him up, onto the mattress, before he unclips the chain leash and tosses it on his nightstand. “I’ve got some pretty fucked up shit in the spank bank.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please, Master,” Bucky murmurs. “Everyone here is so… </span>
  <em>
    <span>strange.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” He pulls a face. “You’re the most normal thing about this place. If your people think your fantasies are… fucked up…” He gives Tony the sweetest little ghost of a smile. “I find that reassuring.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony barks out a laugh, then hauls back and slaps Bucky across the face again while he’s caught off guard, just because it felt so good the first time. His palm stings, and Bucky’s breathing gets harder, but not in that distressed way that indicated a hormonal problem earlier. He licks his lips, opening his mouth a little, and Tony decides to leave him that way. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want to break you,” Tony admits, his tone low and confidential, stroking Bucky’s cheek. “Because I think I could, and I could get away with that. How fucked up is that?” he muses, digging his nails into Bucky’s jawline until he starts whimpering again, his mouth still half-open. “I think about it, sometimes. What it would be like to just… </span>
  <em>
    <span>ruin</span>
  </em>
  <span> someone.” Tony shudders, a thousand images flashing through his head rapid-fire, and increases the pressure until he feels bone. “I’m pretty powerful here. Filthy rich. I could do so much before anyone complained…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like what?” Bucky asks, and it sounds like he’s begging. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I could control your every move. Make you ask me for everything you need, even your breath sometimes. I could make you bleed,” Tony murmurs, bending down and licking into Bucky’s mouth. “Bleed until you’re crying, dizzy, begging me to stop, and I’d let you try to convince me with my dick in your mouth, but I might not stop cutting you, if I was getting off on it,” he admits in a rough whisper between kisses. “Bet you bleed beautifully.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Master,” Bucky sighs. His head falls back and his back arches a bit, displaying his body against the crisp white duvet. “Please, I need…”</span>
  <span>“What?” Tony growls, palming Bucky’s dick through those utterly pointless shorts. The material is stretchy, some kind of synthetic, and Bucky’s not huge but he’s definitely hard. “Need me to fuck you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky shivers all over at that, nodding frantically, and Tony stops him with another rough kiss, yanking the shorts down as far as he can without disengaging from Bucky’s mouth. Fortunately, he can reach the lube from here, but when he reaches down to stroke over Bucky’s hole for the first time, he’s surprised to find it stoppered with something rubber. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck. Does he just keep you… plugged up all the time?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Usually,” Bucky murmurs, his eyes glassy. “Please.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hell, yeah,” Tony agrees, working the small plug out slowly, then tossing it aside and shoving his own jeans down to his thighs so he can get his dick out, get a condom on, and lube it up quickly. “Get your shorts off,” he orders while he’s doing it, and soon Bucky’s naked from the waist down, grabbing his own ankles and pulling them back to expose a dusky pink, slightly gaping hole. “Jesus fuck,” Tony groans. “Do you want me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Yes</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Master. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Need</span>
  </em>
  <span> you,” Bucky whimpers, and Tony doesn’t bother to resist that plea. He slides home without much effort, but Bucky’s still pleasantly tight around him, and his knees fit effortlessly over Tony’s shoulders. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Flexible,” Tony smirks, pushing his dick a few inches deeper. “I like that.” For his part, Bucky doesn’t say anything, but the little sounds he makes are eager enough. When Tony starts to thrust, Bucky rocks with him, his head falling back, and his dick stays hard between their stomachs. “Fuck,” Tony mutters, eyes trailing over that long column of neck broken by the thick black collar, and it’s just too tempting for him to get a hand over top of it, holding Bucky by the throat as he fucks him. He’s not totally sure what the etiquette is on Bucky’s world, if it’s actually kosher to touch another man’s collar, but Bucky hasn’t complained so far and in fact goes </span>
  <em>
    <span>more </span>
  </em>
  <span>relaxed when Tony holds him that way. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How does that feel, sweetheart?” Tony asks, his voice a low purr, as he applies a careful amount of pressure. “Is this evening you out?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky whimpers and manages a “yes, Master,” but it’s choked-off and desperate and just the sound of it makes Tony thrust harder, bottoming out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“God. You’re literally </span>
  <em>
    <span>made</span>
  </em>
  <span> for this, aren’t you?” Tony marvels. “You have no idea how hot that is, that you’re made to take it,” he mumbles, though maybe Bucky does. Doesn’t matter, really. He leans closer, gets his teeth on Bucky’s jaw, a spot above his collar that Tony can mark, and proceeds to bruise him up quite thoroughly. There are already plenty of blueish and yellowed marks poking up at the edge of the collar, other-Steve clearly having a thing for Bucky’s neck, but this is a spot he can make his at least for the moment, the skin clean-shaven and beautifully thin over bone. Tony’s not sure if it’s his general competitive nature or his specific relationship with this world’s Steve that makes him want to do it, but Bucky </span>
  <em>
    <span>keens</span>
  </em>
  <span> high in his throat at the attention, and it’s easy to keep giving him what he wants.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here,” he pants in Bucky’s ear, jostling him a little each time his cock presses deep. “You just take Daddy’s dick, that’s right.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ohhh,” Bucky moans, and suddenly Tony really wants to see him come. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hand on your cock, darling, let me see you. Can you open your eyes for me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky doesn’t answer verbally, but his eyes immediately blink open, and his hand slides between their bodies, stroking nice and slow. It’s gorgeous, but Tony doesn’t really want nice and slow, and if this is going to be all about him, he’s gonna take advantage of it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Faster, now, sweetheart. Good boy. I want to see you come.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky’s eyes go wide, like he wasn’t remotely expecting that. And maybe his usual Master is into orgasm denial, but that’s not Tony’s thing. He’s more likely to want to push someone to come again and </span>
  <em>
    <span>again</span>
  </em>
  <span>, after they’re sensitive, than to make them hold back. He’s reminded why when Bucky works himself furiously to a conclusion, spurting pearly white all over his chest and a good bit of his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Tony mutters, and then, though it’s right on the edge of his usual safe sex practices, can’t stop himself from leaning in and licking a stripe of the stuff up one cheek. “Do you like pain, darling? Tell me you like pain,” he mumbles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Yes</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Bucky agrees in a hiss, and Tony does something he pretty much </span>
  <em>
    <span>never</span>
  </em>
  <span> would on an under-negotiated first date in any other circumstance, shifting up onto his knees and slapping Bucky’s still hard cock. The man beneath him shouts, back arching, and his face tightens up, but he doesn’t instinctively move away. In fact, as soon as his features can relax again, he stares up at Tony, eyes wide. “Master, </span>
  <em>
    <span>please</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Again?” Tony asks, breathless. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Please</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck,” Tony whispers, because the response so obviously signaled significant pain, and even most masochists he knows would be begging for him to stop after that, not to keep going. Instead of doing exactly as he’s asked, though, he reaches down, gets a handful of Bucky’s balls, and grips hard, with just the slightest twist. Bucky’s whole body convulses, a groan falling from his pretty lips, his torso crunching into a natural curl. Tony shoots his load right at the deepest point of his thrust, as if he’s trying to reach his own hand with the head of his cock. He doesn’t let go until the last wave has left him and Bucky’s eyes are streaming with tears.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck,” Tony repeats, loosening his hand and bending to kiss Bucky a little apologetically. “Too much?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky’s crying, actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>crying</span>
  </em>
  <span>, now, but he shakes his head at the same time, reaching up to hug Tony closer to his chest. Tony winces a little, pulling out and feeling the squish in between them against his chest and stomach. But his shower is excellent, and very close by. Once he’s chucked the condom into a bin by the bed, he gathers Bucky close, kissing his forehead. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s it, sweetheart,” Tony murmurs, stroking up and down the line of his spine. “Let it all out. It’s okay, we’ll get you home soon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky nods, hiccuping a little, but once he has his breath, he mumbles into Tony’s neck, almost too quiet to hear. “It’s okay. I’m better now.” And if Tony beams with a certain amount of pride, well, he’s only human. </span>
</p>
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